


It's safer, down south

by SecondStarOnTheLeft



Series: 2016 Christmas Fics [18]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Great Gatsby - F. Scott Fitzgerald
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-12
Updated: 2016-12-12
Packaged: 2018-09-08 04:54:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8831203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SecondStarOnTheLeft/pseuds/SecondStarOnTheLeft
Summary: Petyr and Alayne take the house right by Joffrey and Margaery's. This is going to be an interesting summer.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Petyrs](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Petyrs/gifts), [tywinning](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tywinning/gifts).



> For [Jaquelin,](http://petyrbaelishs.tumblr.com) via me, from [Lauren.](http://joannalannister.tumblr.com)

Her dress is a pretty thing, white satin and silver beading, and her legs are endless below it.

Her back, exposed by the low cut of the dress, is smooth as only tender, particular care can make it. 

“Beautiful,” Petyr says, lower than the dress and twice as pretty. “They’ll never expect it.”

Sansa smiles through Alayne’s face, the tight-tucked curl of her hair dark against her chin. It still startles her sometimes, to look in a mirror and see echoes of Arya’s face as much as her mother’s. She’s gotten thin, maybe too thin, but it suits the look Petyr assures her is all the rage just now, drop-waists and bare arms.

 

* * *

The house is a confection.

It’s pale and airy and lovely, high ceilings and cool corridors and the most fabulous gardens. Sansa knows it’s criminal to lock poor little Robin away in the east wing, but what choice does she have? If he’s allowed out, he’ll spill the beans, and she can’t have that.

Not now that Joffrey is  _ finally _ within reach.

 

* * *

Petyr shows Alayne to the master bedroom, and murmurs  _ exquisite _ when she crosses to the huge doors that open to overlook the bay. 

She knows he doesn’t mean the view. 

“Tell me, sweetheart,” he says, running a knuckle from her shoulder to her wrist, “will it be enough?”

She kisses the corner of his mouth, tastes mint, and darts for the huge dressing room while he laughs.

 

* * *

Joffrey’s wife is beautiful, the sort of witty society darling that Sansa had always admired so much, when she was younger and more innocent.

Now, Alayne looks at Margaery’s pearls and thinks  _ too thick,  _ looks at the slits up the sides of her dress and thinks  _ too old for that.  _ Margaery is desperately clinging to the youth and glamour that gave her power over Joff in the first place, and it isn’t going to work.

Petyr thinks she’s been visiting a doctor in the city, one who’s been giving her a tonic to keep her young -  _ and slipping her something else, too,  _ Petyr says, and Sansa would have blushed. Alayne laughs, though, with an edge of cruelty that she’s sometimes ashamed of.

But Margaery didn’t even wait for Sansa’s bruises to fade before she kissed Joff behind the potted palm in the conservatory. Alayne doesn’t feel  _ too  _ ashamed.

 

* * *

Alayne’s dress is silver tonight, with pearl beading, and her hair is in perfect, rippling curls, clicking sharp against her jaw and ornamented with diamonds - real ones, not the zirconia Margaery is wearing.

Petyr’s hand is warm against the base of her spine, once more exposed, and his breath is cool against the shell of her ear.

“I’ve set aside a special bottle for pretty Margaery,” he whispers, almost a kiss. “Make sure she gets it, sweetheart.”

 

* * *

Margaery gets the champagne and Alayne gets the address of that doctor in town.

He tells Petyr all, for a price.

Alayne stands on the porch after the party, looking across the bay to where the beacon on the end of the old house’s pier still blinks in the night, a north star trying to guide her home.

She ignores it. It’s safer, down south.

At least for now.

  
  
  
  



End file.
